It Won't Fade
by dysprositos
Summary: Tony invited Bruce to live with him because the guy needed a place to stay. And because Tony thought it would be fun. He was wrong. It was not fun. In fact, it was a disaster pretty much from day one. Because when Tony had adopted himself a nuclear physicist, he had not, in any way, shape, or form, intended to fall in love.


**Warnings:...I don't even know. None?**

**Thanks to my beta, irite, for being betatastic, as always.**

**I do not own The Avengers.**

* * *

Tony invited Bruce to live with him because the guy needed a place to stay, and Tony had plenty of those in his mostly-shiny new tower.

That was all. At least, that's what he told himself.

Well, that and Tony thought it would be fun.

He was wrong. It was not fun.

In fact, it was a disaster pretty much from day one.

Because when Tony had adopted himself a nuclear physicist, he had not, in any way, shape, or form, intended to fall in love.

First, because he was straight. Second, because he was in a committed relationship with Pepper. Third, because he wasn't into guys. Or maybe that was just item number one again.

Wasn't it?

Whatever. The point _was _that he'd been aiming to find himself a Science Bro, someone to play around in the lab with, someone who understood thermonuclear astrophysics and could maybe be convinced to blow things up for SCIENCE every once in a while.

He hadn't been trying to find a...a...boyfriend. Or whatever.

Unfortunately, it only took Tony about thirty-seven minutes into their first full day of working together to realize that this arrangement was going to be a problem. Because that was how long it took him to figure out that he was into Bruce. In a distinctly more-than-Science-Bro kind of way.

Tony was a self-aware guy. Sure, he could be oblivious to some things, like his need for sleep, or food, or on several notable occasions, Pepper's irate feelings towards his tendency to work for forty-eight straight hours while ignoring her. But on the whole, he was smart. He connected dots, and he connected them quickly.

These particular dots zipped together in thirty-seven minutes, as Tony sat and watched Bruce laying on the ground under his desk, hooking up computer components and network cables. He was sprawled out on his stomach, propped up on his elbows, and he kept brushing his hair out of his face with a familiar kind of annoyance that was, for lack of a better word, endearing.

_Endearing?_

That was completely unexpected, coming straight out of left field. At least, Tony thought that was the metaphor. He wasn't really into baseball. Maybe he should leave the sports metaphors to someone who got that stuff.

Still. Unexpected.

Or maybe not. Tony, if he was honest with himself (which, at the moment, he was only doing reluctantly), had been drawn to Bruce from the moment they met and Tony blurted out something stupid about green rage monsters, so struck by meeting Dr. Bruce Banner. Then, when they'd talked later about 'terrible privilege' and all that entailed, Tony had felt a connection. Because here was a man who, like him, had made mistakes. Who was going to be paying for those mistakes for the rest of his life. Who wanted, more than anything, to be free of them, but knew he was never going to be and so had to work through them.

That was something that Pepper, as much as Tony loved her, was never going to understand. She didn't know what it was like to live in the shadows of your own fuckups, doing everything you can to try to reach the sun again.

Bruce did. He got it. Which was why Tony had honed in on him almost immediately for Science Bro material. For an East Coast Best Friend. That was all. He hadn't been looking for, what? A new love interest? Of course he wasn't, that sort of shit would just screw up everything good he had going on his life. And considering the fact that this good was relatively new, he wanted to hang onto it.

So why, after knowing Bruce for less than a week, was Tony thinking of him as 'endearing?'

Tony didn't even think of _himself _as endearing.

Quickly, he mentally catalogued his morning. He hadn't, to his knowledge, been imbibing alcohol or any illicit substances. He was sober. So there went that explanation. Maybe he was experiencing hormone fluctuations due to exposure to an extraterrestrial environment? He'd have to test for that. He might have hit his head harder than he'd thought at the end of the battle.

Or maybe he'd just been mistaken about what he'd felt.

Yeah, that was probably it.

Then, Bruce sat up underneath the desk, whacking his head on the bottom. "Ow! Damn it..."

Tony's first reaction wasn't to make sure there was nothing green going on, to make sure there was no cause for alarm. No, his first reaction was, undeniably, to think that Bruce was _cute_.

Cute.

"Oh, God," Tony muttered, standing up from where he'd been sitting on a lab stool and rubbing his brow frantically, trying to eliminate his own traitorous thoughts. "Oh my God, this is not happening."

Bruce unfolded himself from the floor, standing up. "What's wrong? I'm fine—"

"It's not you," Tony reassured him quickly, even though it technically _was_. "It's just, uh. Headache. Migraine. I'll, uh, be back in a while."

And then he turned on his heel and practically ran out of the lab.

He went straight for his penthouse, and straight for the bar, pouring himself a generous portion of scotch that he knocked back in one swallow before going in for round two. That one he sipped slowly, pacing back and forth across the room, trying to avoid the crater in the floor.

Which made him laugh. Because it wasn't bad enough that he was having sudden, unexpected, and unwanted feelings for a guy, but this particular guy also had to have the worst case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde _ever_. That just added an almost-incomprehensible layer of complexity to this whole thing, didn't it?

_What 'whole thing?' There is no 'whole thing,' there's just you and your awkward fucking feelings, Stark._

True. Right now, this was private. It was just him. No one else was involved. Least of all Bruce. And if Tony was careful, it could stay that way.

Besides, it wasn't like he was _in love_. Probably, there was some rational explanation for this. Something that made sense.

_Head injury's a possibility,_ Tony mused to himself. _Hormones! Space! You can't _actually_ feel what you think you feel, you're just...messed up. He saved your life. Maybe that's it. Maybe it's some sort of misplaced hero worship._

Right. Obviously. Something like that. It was screwed up, but _Tony _was screwed up, something he'd proven definitively on more than one occasion. This was well within the realm of possibility. Sure, it was weird, but what in his life wasn't?

He'd just have to deal with it and hope that it would fade.

* * *

Except it didn't.

* * *

By the time Bruce had been living in the Tower for three months, Tony was nursing what felt like the world's most awkward, inconvenient, unyielding crush.

Bruce was, Tony thought (or just hoped desperately) oblivious to this fact. The man wasn't really the most down to earth, and Tony did his best to hide what he felt. Sure, okay, he wasn't exactly subtle. He tried to keep himself from staring, but sometimes his eyes got away from him. And he tried to keep the flirting to a minimum, but he flirted with _everything_, so that didn't always work. But Bruce was oblivious, and even with Tony's lack of subtlety, it was possible that Bruce didn't know.

It was another month after Tony accepted his crush before he had to acknowledge that this was not going to work. A month of suffering, of feeling worse about himself than he'd thought possible (and he'd been to the depths of self-loathing many a time before), a month of beating himself up. It took that long for him to realize that he couldn't just pretend that this was going to go away.

It wasn't going away.

It was getting _worse_.

On more than one occasion, he'd found himself wandering over to Bruce's lab to ask for help with calculations or programming that he was damn well capable of doing himself. Faster, even. Once he was there, he'd linger, just watching Bruce work. Sure, he chattered inanely, kept up a steady flow of conversation, but that was superficial. His main goal was observation. Soon, Tony was finding reasons to work in Bruce's lab on a more permanent basis. Finding ways to keep them both there until midnight or later. Eating meals down there, watching television, having what could easily (by someone less oblivious than Bruce) be construed as 'dates.'

Then, he was finding ways to skip his dates with Pepper.

Tony didn't get it, didn't know where this was coming from, and he _tried _to deny it. He was with Pepper. Tony crawled into bed with her every night (or most of them, anyway), woke up next to her in the morning, but his days...those he dedicated to Bruce.

And he _was _dedicated.

It was eating him. He had trouble sleeping at night from the guilt of what he felt. He couldn't concentrate for more than a couple of minutes at a time, he was so distracted. It was a nightmare, nothing at all like what 'love' was supposed to be.

Was it even love? _Maybe _it was misplaced hero worship for the man who'd saved his life. At least, maybe at first, that was all it had been. And maybe if that had been it, if Tony had driven Bruce to the airport like he should have...maybe this wouldn't have happened. But the more time he spent with his new live-in physicist, the more things he found to, ugh, yes, _love _about Bruce. And it just fed into this insidious positive feedback cycle, where the output was this unstoppable flood of _affection _and _attraction_ and _desire_.

Four months in, and Tony accepted he was doomed. It was an unstoppable flood, and he was drowning in it. It was creeping into every crevice of his life, impacting his work, his sleep. His relationship with Pepper was strained, because while she couldn't figure out _what _was holding his attention so thoroughly in R&D, she resented his 16-hour days of research nonetheless. It was only a matter of time until she'd have had enough.

He was drowning, and needed to save himself. No one else could. He had to save himself, and there was only one way to do it.

He had to come clean.

Laying awake one Sunday morning, pre-dawn, and looking at Pepper's sleeping face, Tony felt like a jerk. More than a jerk. Like the world's worst jerk. Like the guy who was such a jerk, even the other jerks ostracized him. Because what he was thinking of doing...it was shitty. Pepper was amazing. She was smart, she was capable, she was one hell of a woman. There was absolutely nothing wrong with her. Nothing. None of this was her fault.

No, Tony had just gone and fallen in love with someone else. That was _his_ fault.

But it wasn't like he'd fallen _out _of love with Pepper. He still felt exactly the same as he always had. Nothing had changed between them. So he could not justify what he was going to do.

'What we have is good, just not good enough,' wasn't something that _anyone _deserved to hear.

Tony sighed and sat up. Next to him, Pepper mumbled something, and Tony said quietly, "I'm fine."

That was enough reassurance for her; she went back to sleep instantly. Tony stood. The clock next to the bed said it was just before 6:00 AM. Bruce was probably up. He took the early morning hours to do his meditation or what-the-hell-ever it was that he did in the gym. Which meant he'd be calm. Good timing. And there was no better time than the present, really. Right? He could do this. No big deal. He was just going to confess his, what, love? To a man? Who had shown no interest in him beyond friendship?

Yeah, stellar idea.

Shaking his head at his own idiocy, Tony rummaged around on the floor, pulling on something approximating clothing before slipping out of the bedroom.

"JARVIS," he asked, shutting the door behind him, "Is Bruce up?"

"Indeed, sir, Dr. Banner is in the gym. Shall I inform him you are searching for him?"

"No," Tony answered. He'd go downstairs himself. "Thanks, J."

He took the stairs, mostly because he wanted more time to think. Needed it. When he got to the floor with the gym, he paused on the landing, steeling himself.

_You sure you wanna do this?_

_Hell no, I'm not_. This definitely ranked in his top ten 'Worst Ideas Ever.' Right up there with flying a nuke into space. But if he'd done that, he could do this.

He cracked the door open.

Bruce was stretched out on one of the mats in the middle of the floor, contorted into some uncomfortable-looking position, eyes closed.

_Yoga. Really_.

Well, whatever worked.

When the door closed behind Tony with a soft _click_, Bruce opened his eyes and rolled into a sitting position. "Oh. Hey. You're up...early."

"Ungodly early," Tony agreed.

The pair stared at each other in an incredibly awkward silence, which they both broke at the same time.

"Do you need something—"

"I wanted to talk to you—"

They both stopped, and Tony gave a nervous chuckle. God, this was a terrible idea. What was he _thinking_?

But Tony knew he had to get this off his chest, and this had seemed easier than facing Pepper, than admitting to her what he'd done. His almost-infidelity. Even now, it seemed easier, so Tony cleared his throat. "I, uh. I don't really know how to say this." He sat down on a nearby weight bench, hunching over.

"Say what?" Bruce asked, guarded. Tony didn't blame him—he'd be pretty damn nervous if he heard someone say something like that. Hell, he _was _nervous.

"I want..." No, that was wrong. He didn't _want_. He didn't _want _any of this, it just _was_. "I think...I think I'm..."

_Christ, just _say it _already. Bruce probably doesn't do suspense._

_Right, and just shocking him with this is going to go over so well._

_Oh, _now _you're worried about the implications of this. Nice._

"What is it, Tony?" Bruce prompted, standing up and moving to stand next to him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Tony choked out. Then, gathering every ounce of willpower he had, "It's just, I think I'm in love with you."

Bruce had been reaching a hand out for Tony's shoulder; that movement stopped abruptly. In fact, Bruce froze completely—Tony didn't even think he was breathing.

"Doc?" Tony prodded.

Bruce took a deep breath and let it out slowly, hand falling to his side. Then, for good measure, he took another breath. Finally, he repeated, "You think you're 'in love' with me?"

The incredulous tone he was using, Tony decided, helped _nothing. _"Yeah. I, uh. I don't know why—"

"Me neither," Bruce scoffed, looking down, looking away.

"Don't," Tony cut him off. "This is hard enough. Do you think I _wanted _this—"

"I don't know," Bruce interrupted, voice tense. "Did you?"

"No! But it just _happened_. I mean, you're...you, and I'm me, and you...you saved my life. And you know what it's like. To be..."

"Screwed up?" Bruce supplied.

"No. Responsible," Tony corrected. "You know what it's like to be responsible, what it's like to carry this _weight_. Pepper...I love her, but she doesn't get it."

"And I do." Flat. Unyielding.

"Yeah."

Bruce shook his head slowly. "I don't know what you want me to do."

Honestly, Tony didn't, either. "I don't...I just had to tell you. I couldn't...this has been eating at me."

"Did you tell Pepper?"

"Not yet."

"You're going to?"

"Yeah. I have to, don't you think?"

Bruce shrugged. "No. There's an easy solution to this. I can just leave—"

"No," Tony objected immediately. That idea punched him in the gut. "You live here, now. I'm not going to see you run off because I'm..."

"Screwed up?" Bruce supplied again.

In that moment, Tony understood. What he felt for Bruce wasn't reciprocated. He hadn't thought it would be, but part of him had hoped. That part of him wouldn't go down without a fight, though, and gave one last dying gasp. "Do you think...we could ever...?"

Bruce was shaking his head before Tony even finished the sentence. "No. I'm not..." he paused, then tried a different angle. "You're with Pepper, Tony. And even if you weren't, I...I'm...I can't. I can't do that again. And I _can't_. You know?" He blushed. "My heart rate goes up, and...things could get ugly."

Tony frowned. "Really?"

"Really."

There were several beats of silence before Bruce offered, "I'm glad...you felt like you could tell me, though."

"Right. Because this isn't awkward at _all_," Tony snapped back. He'd thought he'd been living a nightmare before. This was worse.

Bruce gave a half-smile. "Yeah. It is."

More silence. Then Tony muttered, "I need to talk to Pepper." His horror show was only half over, after all. He still had to destroy someone else today.

Bruce's only response was a slow nod. He offered Tony a hand up, which Tony gratefully took. At the moment, he wasn't sure he was up to standing on his own.

The pair rode the elevator up together, standing a careful distance apart. Bruce got off a couple of floors below Tony, and he didn't say anything as he disembarked and headed towards his rooms.

Back in his penthouse, Tony crept slowly towards the bedroom. Pepper was still asleep, taking advantage of the weekend, and Tony spent almost ten minutes sitting across the room and just watching her sleep before she cracked her eyes open. "What's going on, Tony?" she mumbled, still half asleep yet managing to sound annoyed.

"Uh, nothing," Tony muttered. Then, because that was obviously a lie, "Okay, something. I, um, I need to talk to you."

"Right now?" She was more awake, now, slowly sitting up and looking worried.

Tony stood up. "I'll make coffee, why don't you shower?"

"Tony—"

"Please," he pleaded. "Just...please."

"Is everything all right?"

_No_. "Yeah, it's fine, I just...I really need to talk to you."

She shook her head, red hair falling out of her face. But she didn't ask any more questions, just swung her legs over the side of the bed, and Tony took that as his cue to head to the kitchen and start the coffee.

After ten minutes of poking around at the machine, he'd managed to get it brewing, and was just making headway on toast when JARVIS interrupted him.

"Sir, Dr. Banner has asked me to inform you that he thanks you for your hospitality, but he is unfortunately going to be unable to continue residing on this property. He has departed via taxi to the airport."

Tony froze, dropping the slice of bread he'd been holding. "What?"

"Dr. Banner has asked me to inform you that he thanks you for your hospitality, but he is unfortunately going to be unable to continue residing—"

"Stop," Tony interrupted. What the hell? Bruce had just packed up and _left? _In twenty minutes? Without even saying goodbye? "Did he say anything else?"

"Dr. Banner apologizes for any inconvenience he may have caused, and hopes that you and Ms. Potts will 'be able to survive in his absence.'"

Tony took about two seconds to parse that before he got the deeper meaning. "That _moron_." He'd _told _Bruce that he didn't want him to leave, but the asshole had gone and done it anyway, apparently with the goal of saving Tony and Pepper's relationship. He knew that he was getting between them, and apparently didn't understand that it was _Tony's _problem and not _his_.

"Who's a moron?" Pepper asked, stepping out of the bedroom, toweling her hair. "And what's so urgent that you needed to wake me up to talk about it?"

Tony closed his eyes. Bruce was gone. Sure, he could track him down. Rush to the airport, have a dramatic and fruitless confrontation. But Bruce didn't want anything to do with him, at least, he didn't feel anything like what Tony felt for him.

And that felt like he was being cut, like someone was carving a part of him out and leaving the wound open and bleeding and raw.

He could bring Bruce back. Tony didn't think the physicist would really object, if Tony actually stopped him. So he could get Bruce, could spend his days _wanting _something he could never have, could be selfish, could put Bruce in an uncomfortable position, could watch and wait for the apocalypse that was sure to strike when it all became too much. It would.

And Pepper. Tony would have to tell her. Then, everything would implode, and he'd have _nothing_, and they'd all be broken.

But...if Tony _didn't _act, didn't do the selfish thing...maybe...maybe what he and Pepper had _could _be saved. Maybe he didn't have to crush _everything _good in his life in one day. Maybe he could salvage _something_. Bruce was giving him an opportunity. An opportunity to lie, to do the wrong thing...to keep something worth saving.

Actual bile rose in Tony's throat as self-disgust washed over him. But...as much as he hated himself...he knew he was going to do it anyway. So he swallowed once, twice, crushing his pain into something small and negligible, something he could expel later, alone, and he said to Pepper, "I needed to tell you...that Bruce left this morning. Thought he needed to head back to the third world and do some good or something. He's the moron."

Pepper frowned. "That's too bad. I know you two got along really well. Do you think he'll come back? It was nice having someone normal around."

Tony ignored the jibe and picked up the piece of bread he'd dropped, walking it over to the garbage can so that she couldn't see his face as he answered, "I don't know, Pep."

But really...he did.

He knew he wasn't going to be seeing Bruce again, not unless the world needed saving.

And the pain that caused...well, he'd just have to deal with it and hope that it would fade.

* * *

Except it didn't.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**

**Reviews are like a cold drink on a hot day. Or, if you live in the arctic like I apparently do, a warm drink on a cold day.**


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